f breath,
Tommy turned round. "I hit him, F'ank!" he gasped.

Pete, big and heavy as a turkey gobbler, was flopping round and round
when they reached him, beating the ground with lusty wings, sliding his
limp head along the dirt, acting crazy generally, as if Aunt Cindy had
wrung his neck.

"Aw, get up!" said Tommy.

But Pete did not get up, and, sobered, the boy glanced around. The hens
had fled the violent scene; the hulk of the barn hid what was going on
from the yard. Only Frank had seen, and Frank never told anything. Tommy
leaned his rifle against the barn, straddled the heavy rooster and, face
flushed, lifted him, limp and dangling, to his feet.

"Stand up, Pete," he coaxed. "You ain't dead!"

But when he released him Pete collapsed like an empty sack, kicked
frantically a time or two, and was still. Then the boy saw the blood
that trickled from his head. Straight into his eye and into his brain,
if he had any, the BB shot had gone. Pete would never eat any more
crumbs. Breathing fast, the boy looked at Frank. Ears drooped, eyes
worried, Frank looked at the boy. And while they looked, down the back
steps came the solid tread of Aunt Cindy's broganned feet, and her
regular afternoon summons broke the silence:

"Chick! Chick! Chick!"

Through the corn the silly hens went running toward the yard, their
appetites nowise affected by the calamity. Again the old woman called.
Then she spoke, and Tommy's heart jumped up into his mouth. His father
had evidently sauntered round the house, as fathers have a way of
sauntering, just at the wrong time.

"Mr. Steve--whar dat rooster?" asked the old woman.

Earle laughed. "I haven't got him, Aunt Cindy."

"It sho a funny thing," she declared. "He allis de fust to come when
dey's anything to eat. Somethin' done happen to him. You stay here. I
lay I kin fin' him!"

Tommy hastily picked up his rifle. The old woman was coming; he could
hear her skirts dragging across the weeds at the side of the barn. A
short distance in the opposite direction was the corn crib. To the side
of it away from the barn he retreated, followed closely by Frank.

He heard her exclamation when her eyes fell on the dead rooster.

"Honey!" she called gently, "whar you, honey?"

He didn't answer; he didn't have to answer. She could stand there
calling till night if she wanted to. Then he heard her grunt and sigh as
she stooped down. When he peeped cautiously around the corner, she had
picked